Author Archives: thehistoryinterpreter

Irish Adventures Day 10

by thehistoryinterpreter

Yes, there’s more, although this now seems like it happened a very long time ago.

In a thick haze, we returned across the border to go to Newgrange and Brú na Bóinne. In theory, the journey takes an hour. We allowed an hour and three-quarters. Thanks to rush hour in Newry and a road closure it was a bit touch and go but we arrived just in time for our 10am slot. Brú na Bóinne, or Palace of the Boyne, has mythological connections and is associated with the goddess Boand, the god Dagda and their son Oengus Mac Ind Oc, the boy god. Oengus and his beloved, Caer, were transformed into swans and we did see a swan on the Boyne as we walked across the bridge. First, a look round the exhibition, then a short bus ride to Knowth, where Rodney was our guide. The neolithic burial mound was created some 5000 years ago by early farmers who introduced wheat, barley, cattle and sheep to Ireland. Knowth is the largest site of this type in Western Europe, with nineteen smaller mounds surrounding the largest mound. The passage graves contained cremated remains. DNA extracted from unburnt bones indicated that these people had ancestral connection to Anatolia, in modern day Turkey. This type of tomb was used over many years. Twelve generations of one family have been found in a similar grave in Sligo. I do wonder how anyone knows this. The excavations at Knowth, under Professor George Eogan began in 1962 and lasted several decades.

There have been some modern adaptations to preserve the neolithic carvings that are on many of the kerb stones round the circumference of the main mound. These are abstract designs, featuring spirals, curves and concentric circles. Despite speculation, no one knows what they symbolise. One has twenty nine crescents and circles that might be representative of the phases of the moon. Two-thirds of all western European neolithic art is at Knowth, which is why Brú na Bóinne is designated a World Heritage Site.  Some of the stones used in the creation of the original mound come from as far away as the Wicklow Mountains. These were moved before the horse or wheel and were probably transported by raft and then rolled on logs. The estimated weight of the mound is 250,000 tons. It is twelve metres high and ninety metres across. Of 300 similar monuments, only fifteen have solar alignment. At Knowth, the two standing stones on the eastern and western sides cast shadows on the centre of the entrance stones at the spring and autumn equinoxes. There is evidence of settlement here that pre-dates the mounds. In the ninth century, regional kings lived in fourteen houses built on top of the great mound. The area was farmed by nearby Mellifont Abbey in the twelfth century.

Another short trip and we were at Newgrange. There are a few carvings here, notably the triple spiral symbol, which is unique to Newgrange. The impressive part of this site is the burial chamber with its solar alignment, which floods the chamber with sunlight at sunrise on the winter solstice. There is a slight uphill incline as you squeeze your way up the passage, minding your head at various points. This means that the ‘roof box’ over the entrance is the same height as the floor of the main chamber. The effect was simulated for us using artificial light. The gradual northward drift of sunrise at the winter solstice means that by c.5000CE this phenomenon will cease. The domed roof of the chamber is six metres high and is completely watertight.

It was incredibly hot with not a scrap of shade. The car thermometer that measures the outside air temperature at one point reached thirty six degrees. Even allowing for some slight inaccuracy, that is pretty hot. Despite the heat, we decided to go ahead with our plan to visit the site of the Battle of the Boyne, the largest single battle to take place in Ireland or Britain. We circumvented the road closure to find the site. There isn’t a great deal to see but it was worth a visit and entrance was free with membership of English Heritage. A Georgian house, Oldbridge House, has been built on the site and contains as small display. Having led students through coursework on the Battle of the Boyne for several years, you’d think my retained knowledge of it would have been better than it was. It was fought between William III, aka William of Orange and his father-in-law, the deposed Catholic James II in 1690. James had support from France and Catholics in Ireland and his troops numbered some 23,000. He was outnumbered by William’s 36,000 better trained men, including Dutch and Huguenots. William’s victory was effectively the end of James’ attempt to regain the throne and he fled to France.

The walled garden was a suntrap and as such a bridge too far in thirty degree plus temperatures, so after a brief look from a distance we headed back to the van.

Irish Adventures Days 8 & 9

by thehistoryinterpreter

Still drip feeding you with news of our recent Irish holiday.

Day 8

Time to move to Northern Ireland. The sat-nav asked if we wished to avoid a toll road. We said we did. We probably didn’t. Avoiding the toll road took us back to the dreaded Dublin outskirts, abounding with bus lanes and traffic lights. Fortunately we made it through and headed north on the N2. We even managed to find some services where wifi was available. Yay! 212 emails to wade through.

Our next home was a site in the  Kilbroney Forest, on the edge of the Mountains of Mourne. Now this really was our kind of site. Wonderfully friendly and helpful staff, a very special setting and wifi, albeit a little shaky at times. I could see the sea from my caravan bed; wonderful. Somehow I didn’t expect it to be so picturesque. Apparently, Rostrevor used to be called  several other things, including Castle Rory. It became Rostrevor in 1613 when Sir Edward Trevor married Rose Usher.

I was particularly keen to see the area as my dad was stationed here during the war. His letters to my mum, whom he had just met, survive and it seems he mostly peeled potatoes, got bored and joined the camp choir. He was billeted at Ballyedmond, which is now a private residence. We managed to find it and the CCTV no doubt led to some alarm as I skulked around outside a fair bit. I realised that I wasn’t sure what he was doing here, apart from the peeling potatoes but it seems that Ballyedmond was a US air force base so that kind of makes sense as he was with the RAF regiment. Though why the US couldn’t service their own base I am not sure. I definitely need to find out more. We also drove along the forest drive and admired the view. The temperature was still in the high 20s, so it was quite cosy.

We had a television signal for the first time since Pembroke and channel hopping discovered the first Fisherman’s Friends film was being shown, so that was us set up for the night.

Day 9

A leisurely start and we set off round the Mourne coastal road to Murlough. The sand dunes here are believed to be 6000 years old and there is evidence of human habitation in the area for 4000 years. The dunes are home to rabbits that were harvested in the middle ages for fur and meat. The area has been protected since 1967 and is in the care of the National Trust, which means we get to park for free. We set off looking for the yellow marked poles that designate the South End Nature Trail. We hadn’t got very far when we lost track of the yellow poles. We had white poles. Have they perhaos run out of yellow paint? We slogged up and down sand dunes in weather that was really too hot for this. We did however find the spot where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea. It was hazy, so the mountains were not very clear. I noted that the guide said that this route was wheelchair friendly. No way was where we were wheelchair friendly. We were lost. We found our way back to the car park and decided that one can have too much of hot sand dunes so consoled ourselves with a chocolate muffin (me) and a bacon bap (Chris).

We drove to Silent Valley in the Mourne Mountains. You have to pay £5 per car to enter. The nearby dam took 2000 men forty years to construct and was opened in 1933 to provide Belfast with water. The granite Mourne Mountains are beautiful but more barren than the Wicklow Mountains and I think the Wicklow Mountains have the edge for me. There are some interesting dry boulder (as opposed to drystone) walls edging tiny fields. The Mourne Mountains are a location for game of Thrones apparently; having never watched it, that doesn’t make much impact. We followed a short ‘Nature Trail’, spotting some long-tailed tits and then walked up to see the dam. There was supposed to be a café and visitors’ centre but these were either very well disguised or closed. We then attempted to drive round the Ring of Gullion Trail, we managed to find our way on to it. The landscape was greener here but it probably wasn’t worth the diesel.

The Mountain of Mourne Sweeping Down to the Sea

Irish Adventures Day 7

by thehistoryinterpreter

Still posting about out recent holiday in Ireland.

Allegedly it was to take an hour to get to Dublin for our 11am tour of Trinity College and the Book of Kells. We were supposed to be there ten minutes in advance. We left at 9am. There seemed to be a lot more traffic on the roads than the previous day and driving through the centre of Dublin, negotiation bus lanes, trams and a million sets of traffic lights was not the best idea we’ve, ok I’ve, ever had. We had been lulled into a false sense of security by yesterday’s foray into Dublin, albeit the southern outskirts. I won’t say it was stressful, for me at least but I have vowed never ever to suggest we drive into a city again. If I have my way we won’t ever venture into a major city on any terms ever again. I will make an exception for the cities on whose outskirts my children live but that may well be it. Then there was the issue of where to park. The sat-nav obliged us with a ‘car park near your destination’ and we manage to only accidentally get stuck in one bus lane on the way (we think). We are now waiting to see how many fines we get. The tiny out-of-the-way car park had very tight turns to access it but we made it at 10.35pm and there was space. Of course we then had no idea how to get from there to Trinity College. We managed to pick people to ask who knew the answer and arrived at exactly 10.50am, fortunately with time to dash to a toilet before beginning our tour with Paul.

Paul was great; if you have a tour of Trinity College, Paul is your man. The university was set up in the C16th by Elizabeth I, who wanted a university for the sons of the Protestant aristocracy. As such, the university was aloof from the surrounding area. It was two hundred years before Catholics were allowed to study there and 1904 before women were able to graduate, even then it was ahead of its time and women came from England in order to be awarded degrees. Initially, the schools of study were Divinity, Law, Medicine and Science. Notable former students are Oscar Wilde, Bram Stoker and Samuel Beckett. The university boasts many active societies. The History Society has been meeting since 1770 but the Philosophical Society have met every week without a break since 1683. No idea how this worked in times of war, rebellion or COVID.

Currently there are 20,000 students from 110 countries. Ireland’s current population is seven million about ten percent of whom are fluent Gaelic speakers but this is on the increase. There are some small settlements in the west where Gaelic is the first language.

The oldest surviving building dates from 1701. The 100 foot bell tower was built in 1852 and the students are wary of passing under it, as the legend is that if you walk underneath when the bells rings, which it does unpredictably, you will fail your exams. The chapel at Trinity College is the only multi-faith place of worship in Ireland. The iconic Old Library, which houses 200,000 texts, some of which date back over four hundred years, is being renovated. The process will take three years. A year to move the books safely, this is already underway, a year to renovate the building and a year to replace the books. It is an amazing building, even with only some of its contents. On display was the Brian Boru harp, which actually is not anything to do with C11th high king of Ireland Brian Boru. The harp, in fact from the late middle ages, is the oldest surviving Irish harp and one on which the Irish national emblem has been based.

We joined the million people each year who view the Book of Kells, which dates from 800CE. Fortunately, not all one million were there on the day of our visit, even though it felt like it on the streets of Dublin. There wasn’t even a queue. The Book of Kells, an incredibly illustrated version of the Bible, was created in a monastery on Iona. Viking raids led monks to relocated to Kells in County Meeth. Kells was plundered several times and in 1007 the Book was stolen, being recovered, with some damage, a few weeks later. It is incredible that the Book survived as there were repeated fires at Kells in the C11th and C12th. It was 1653 before the Book was sent to Dublin, to keep it safe during the Cromwellian raids. It was presented to Trinity College, Dublin in 1661. It is estimated that 185 calf skins were used to make the vellum for the Book; the original binding has not survived. Every three or four months a specialist page turner sees that a new double-page spread is displayed to visitors. Although the current pages were not particularly decorative, it did seem appropriate that it was Luke 3 vv32-8, the genealogy of Jesus.

I am sure we should have walked the streets of Dublin, exploring the archetypal bars, listening to music and quaffing Guiness but to be honest, we just wanted to get to somewhere more remote. Fortunately, getting out of Dublin was a little more straightforward than crossing it and we headed home down the coastal road. Although we did get a couple of glimpses of the sea, this wasn’t particularly inspiring but it did mean we saw a different Irish road.

Irish Adventures Days 5 & 6

by thehistoryinterpreter

Day 5

Another day of glorious weather and we walked along the beach before heading seventy five miles north to the Hidden Valley site at Rathdrum. This is more of a holiday complex than our usual sort of site, although we did managed to secure a relatively quiet pitch. Here I can shoot people with lasars, play crazy golf, leap across a large swimming pool on inflatable thingys, pay €1 for a shower and indulge in numerous other ’attractions’ but despite hundreds of people on site and the publicity saying there was wifi, I can’t check my emails. My phone is no good as a substitute. I can connect to a network to make calls but not to access the internet. We did take a short walk round the site  but then decided it was a bit hot to go far so had a quiet afternoon in the van.

Day 6

Today was scheduled to be a visit to Kilmainham Goal, built in 1796 and noted for housing and executing Irish political prisoners. This meant braving Dublin and overcoming the stated lack of parking. An hour’s run up the N11 to begin. The roads are in much better condition than ours at home and much less congested. My trusty chauffeur had no trouble negotiating the streets of Dublin. Amazingly, we found an on-street parking place within a few hundred yards. We checked carefully to ensure it wasn’t residents only but all seemed to be fine. That was the end of the good news. Our itinerary had been carefully planned and everything that advised prior booking was prior booked. When I looked at the website back at Christmas I am certain there was no indication that we needed to book. We needed to book. There were no vacancies until 4.30pm. It was at this point 10am. We gave up and headed for home.

The plan was to drive back through the scenic Wicklow Mountains. The sat-nav was clearly incredulous that we could possibly want to go that way. Normally in situations like this I ask it to take us to some tiny place on the route we actually want to take. In this case there were no tiny places marked on the map that were big enough for the sat-nav to recognise. Cue map. Although the maps we had were smaller scale that I would normally use to navigate, especially as I wasn’t 100% sure where I was starting from, beyond south Dublin, I attempted to get us on to the R115. We had been loaned maps by friends that proved adequate for the job and we were rewarded with the spectacular scenery of the Wicklow Mountains, with the heather turning purple on every side. We saw very few other vehicles and plenty of sheep. Sadly, it was spoiled by litter in almost every pull-in. Given that you’d be very unlikely to be on the road unless you were a fan of out-of-the way places with breathtaking views, this is hard to square with travellers who think it is in any way ok to empty the rubbish out of their car and on to the roadside.

We stopped off for supplies in Rathdrum, where the car thermometer agreed with that outside the local chemist, telling us it was 31 degrees.

Irish Adventures Day 4

by thehistoryinterpreter

A thick mist descended as we set off for the Irish National Heritage Park but fortunately, another sunny day broke through after half an hour or so. The Heritage Park contains reconstructions of buildings representing Irish history from 7000BCE to 1200CE. We have learned that if a guided tour is on offer, take it, as you learn so much more than just wandering round under your own steam. As we arrived as the park opened, we were in time for the first of three tours on offer and began by learning about pre-historic Ireland from the enthusiastic and knowledgeable Ciaron. We were the only two on this tour and the next, which covered the early Christian era. By  the time we got to the tour that covered the age of the Viking and Norman invasions, Ciaron had built up quite a crowd and was in full dramatic flow, epitomising the Irish story-telling tradition at its best. He did talk and walk pretty fast but we managed to keep up on both counts.

Here are just some of the take-aways I gleaned from Ciaron; I hope I’ve got it right! The human habitation of Ireland dates back about 9000 years and the first reconstruction we saw was of a campsite from that era. We then moved on to a New Stone Age Farmstead, representing a time when the people were clearing the forest for farmland. A Megalithic Dolmen tomb was next, of a type that was used when bodies were being cremated. Apparently it would have taken 700kg of wood to cremate a body. I can’t help wondering how anyone knows; surely this would be taking Experimental Archaeology a little too far. An excavation of a similar Irish tomb discovered the remains of twenty two people, both adults and children. DNA analysis has shown them to be an extended family group, one of whom had Down’s Syndrome. Climatic changes about 4000 years ago made Ireland a land of bogs and water. Water was revered and sacrifices were made, resulting in the bog bodies that have been recovered. A Bronze Age Stone Circle was the final prehistoric site. Apparently these are found in the south-west of Ireland and in north and mid-Ulster but rarely in between.

We moved on to the Early Christian Era sites. Unlike most of Europe, the Christianisation of Ireland was peaceful, with pagan traditions being adapted to suit Christian worship. An Ogham stone provided an example of early written Irish from about 1700 years ago. The alphabet is based on Latin and the stones are said to have magical associations. There was an early Medieval Ringfort, although it was more of a protective enclosure than a fortification. Next came a reconstruction of an early monastic site, complete with herb garden and sundial. The working corn drying kiln was fascinating, as was the watermill with the horizontal wheel submerged by the stream. Legend attributes the introduction of water mills to Ireland to C3rd Cormac MacArt. He allegedly sent for craftsmen from overseas to construct water mills, to spare his pregnant slave from having to grind corn by hand. In fact evidence for the first mills in much later than C3rd.

Ciaron’s account of the invasion era was peppered with people with unpronounceable names that are definitely beyond my spelling capacity. I clung to Henry II, who was featured in there somewhere. Viking raids from 795-1014 led to the building of long forts. A member of the powerful O’Neill clan destroyed all those in the north but in the south they led to the development of Waterford, Wexford, Cork, Limerick and Dublin. In the C11th Ireland was becoming more centralised, with fewer fragmented kingdoms. Robert FitzStephens was one character in the story whose name I have probably got right. He built an earthwork fort on the site of the Heritage Park c.1170. There was loads more but you will just have to go for yourselves to find out. Putting the Heritage Park on your itinerary is definitely recommended and to get the full benefit, availing yourself of a guided tour even more so.

Having underestimated the distance yesterday, today we drove to Lady’s Beach. This is a pilgrimage site and the pilgrimage season is now on. Lady’s Island used to be called the Island of the White Women and was a Druidic centre. The early Christians preserved it’s heritage as a site of female worship and dedicated it to the Virgin Mary.  The missionary, St Abban, designated it as a place of pilgrimage. There are remains of a Norman Castle on the island; the monastery on the site was destroyed by Cromwell in 1649. We followed the pilgrimage route, accompanied by suitable piped music. This took us past the Lady’s Island lake and bird sanctuary. Lake yes, sanctuary maybe, birds not so much, apart from some swans, a few choughs and a solitary heron. Returning to the site it was off to the Common Room to get email access and see what I have been missing.

Irish Adventures Day 3

by thehistoryinterpreter

Will be drip feeding these to you over the next few weeks – you can have a too much of a good thing!

Day 3

It turns out that the sat nav doesn’t recognise full Irish postcodes and we only had a general address for today’s destination, which is not on the map. Nevertheless, with the help of the site owner, we made the short journey to Wexford Wildlife Reserve with only one wrong turning. The reserve is small and free to enter. Unless you plan on spending a long time in the hides, you can exhaust its possibilities in about an hour but it was definitely an hour well spent. Most notable amongst the birdlife were the many swallows, readying themselves for journeying south. There was also a SBJ (small brown job) that by dint of taking many photos, I decided afterwards was a reed warbler, although not with 100% level of confidence. I am reasonably good at bird recognition, although hopeless at bird song. I do however struggle to tell my willow warbler from my chiff chaff.

Best of all, the reserve is a centre for the preservation of hares. Imagine our delight when we not only saw several but one stopped within a metre of my feet, despite me sporting my bargainous fluorescent orange coat, acquired at 75% off the recommended price in the end of season sale when in the Lake District last year.

When looking in vain for the wildlife reserve on the map, I spotted that Tintern Abbey was nearby. This was a surprise as I was pretty sure Tintern Abbey was on the Welsh borders. It turns out that THAT Tintern Abbey is indeed in Monmouthshire but this is a related Tintern Abbey. As we had plenty of time we went off plan and headed to Tintern Abbey, which had the added advantage of belonging to the Office of Public Works, which has a reciprocal arrangement with English Heritage, so entry was free.

The Monmouthshire Tintern Abbey was founded in 1137 and William Marshal, Earl of Pembroke, set up the Cistercian Abbey of the same name in Wexford, with monks from the Monmouthshire foundation, in about 1200. After a perilous sea crossing to Ireland, the establishment of the monastery was Marshal’s way of giving thanks for his survival. Having been remodelled, the abbey was partly abandoned in the C15th.

Anthony Colclough (later to be knighted for services to the crown) was granted Tintern Abbey and more than 5000 acres of land by Henry VIII and was part of the attempt to secure parts of Ireland that were beyond the Pale (around Dublin) for England and the Protestant religion. He converted the abbey into a fortified manor house. As the need for fortification lessened, it became more of a country house.

Judicious marriages by Sir Thomas Colclough established both Protestant and Catholic branches of the family in Wexford. During the C17th Civil War, Tintern was a refuge for 200 Protestants but was temporarily taken over by the Catholic Colcloughs. After the New Model Army’s massacre of  thousands in Wexford, Cromwell restored ownership to Protestant Sir Caesar Colclough. The last Colclough to reside at Tintern was Lucy Marie Colclough, ‘Miss Marie’. She gifted the parts of Tintern that had not previously been sold off to the nation in 1963.

Having explored the Abbey, we took a short walk to the nearby walled gardens, formerly part of the Colclough estate, which were also worth a visit. The many apple trees produce a local cider.

Back to the van for some refreshment and we decided to do a circular walk to the nearby beach and bird sanctuary. We had been warned that the map was not to scale. This was not wrong and we did end up going rather further than intended and still not making it to the bird sanctuary. The beach at St. Margaret’s Bay is just my sort of beach, wide expanses of sand and very few people. We stopped to examine the local fishing boats and headed inland for rather a long way. Despite the odd shower earlier in the day, all while we were in the car, the late afternoon was glorious, with real strength in the sun. It was lovely to relax in the sunny van after our walk.

Irish Adventures Days 1 & 2

by thehistoryinterpreter

As always, you get my holiday news with a time lag but here is the start of our Irish adventures.

Day 1

Things were not looking good as yesterday the sat nav decided it would wipe itself clean instead of updating and we only have a small scale maps of Ireland, so the prospect of getting from a to b was looking challenging. After an hour with the ‘not actually any help’ guy, whose main aim seemed to be to claim we needed to buy extremely expensive anti-virus software, the sat nav did at least turn on and recognise where we were. We decided we were safe to head to Pembroke (or possibly somewhere else if the sat nav wasn’t actually working). Despite a very convoluted diversion on the link road, the journey was uneventful. We realised that Irish speed limits are probably going to be in kilometres. Chris’ car speedo is in miles only. We envisaged plenty of dividing by eight and multiplying by five, or is it the other way round?

Once in Wales, I attempted to translate some of the bilingual signs, on the strength of my knowledge of Cornish, which can be similar. We arrived at our overnight stop, a very peaceful, small site, with a friendly owner and the bonus of wifi. It seemed odd to have nothing to do. I have resolved to put house not-moving to the back of my mind and rejoice in the fact that my paperwork is pretty well up to date, so there won’t be much work I have to do while I’m away. It will be very unusual to have a trip with no family history element, although my dad was stationed in Ireland in the war, so I may just take a look at where he was billeted.

On the advice of the site owner, we ate at the nearby Carew Inn before battening down the hatches for the night.

Day 2

As the ferry was not until mid-afternoon we decided to make a quick bonus visit to nearby Carew Castle. The persistent drizzle wasn’t particularly conducive to ruined castle exploration but we managed a good look round. We did pass on moving on to the tidal mill, as that was a ten minute soggy walk away. The current mill is thought to date from the early C19th, although there was a mill on the river in the sixteenth century.

Carew Castle was built in wood on the site of an Iron Age fortification at the end of the C11th by Gerald de Windsor, constable of Pembroke Castle, who wanted an additional fortification further up the river. He made a dynastic marriage to Princess Nest. Nest was abducted in an ambush by Prince Owain who she lived with for several years before returning to Gerald. Gerald escaped capture because he was in the garderobe.

The stone castle was largely the work of Nicholas de Carew who died in 1311. C15th additions were made by Sir Rhys ap Thomas. He was a favourite of Henry VII, after aiding him at Bosworth and it is said that it was Rhys who killed Richard III. Rhys was made a Knight of the Garter and held a massive tournament and five day feast in 1507 to celebrate. Sir Roland Rhys was allegedly killed by his pet ape, which is said to haunt the castle.

Finally, the castle was developed into an Elizabethan manor house by Sir John Perrot. Perrot’s role was to clamp down on piracy and smuggling but he ended up becoming involved himself.  During the Civil War, Royalist Sir George Carew owned the castle and it changed hands several times during the conflict. The castle and mill are now administered by the Pembrokeshire Coast National Park authority.

There was supposed to be signs of a Nine Men’s Morris Board carved on the wall in the chapel. The theory was that if the devil came in the window he would be distracted by playing the game, rather than entering the chapel. I am not convinced that the faint line that I spotted was it. We learned of the legend of the giant, Skomar Oddy, who lived in the Preseli Hills and rescued sea creatures in the Daugleddau Estuary from sea monsters. It is said that the giant’s footsteps formed the nearby inlets and beaches. The castle is designated as a Site of Special Scientific Interest because of various wild flowers and also because it is inhabited by bats. In order to keep dry, we watched a horrible histories style presentation about the castle’s worst jobs. It was a shame the enthusiastic staff didn’t have a larger audience.

We headed off for the ferry in good time, as is our wont and just as well, as it took half an hour to travel the final two miles to the dock. A quick search of the van and boot by customs and we were on board. Despite being used to ferry crossings, this one was very boring. The limited free wifi didn’t seem to materialise. Even the progressively drunken students, making liberal use of the duty free, didn’t offer much by way of entertainment value. We did break the monotony by having an early evening meal on board. Good job we made it early, as the catering shut up shop a good hour before the ferry docked.

Another realisation whilst on board. Although somehow going to Ireland doesn’t seem like really ‘abroad’, it is. For the first time it dawned on us that we will probably need European plugs, not so much for our appliances as the caravan has conventional sockets but in order to connect the caravan to the electricity supply, we may need an adaptor. Chris has one of these, hurrah. Unfortunately it is at home in one of his many garages.

We made our way to St Margaret’s Beach campsite, just a few miles from the ferry terminal. It is a very pleasant small site with a mixture of static and touring vans. We had a warm welcome and even better, our electricity cable was compatible with the socket provided.

People and Places of the Past

by thehistoryinterpreter

Most of the month has been taken up with family visits and being weirdly unwell, with a return of the mystery allergic reaction I had three years ago. Maybe I am just allergic to August, who knows? Anyway that is receding now and I am trying to take my mind off the fact that no one who wants to buy my house can sell theirs. There’s been plenty to keep me busy. As two Pharos courses draw to a close, I am already preparing for the next one: Discovering Your British Family and Local Community in the early 20th Century. I particularly like leading this course, as it combines both family history and one-place studies. It starts in October if you want to come along for the five week online ride. Following my own advice and immersing myself in early twentieth century family history, my granny’s biography has now reached the outbreak of the Second World War. The story so far is available here.

The recent Forgotten Women Friday also led to investigating women who reached adulthood in the early twentieth century. More than fifty volunteers have been looking at the lives of the first cohort of women to train as teachers at Cheshire County Training College in Crewe. The finished stories are starting to be uploaded to our website. It is hard to believe that in less than nine months we have preserved the memories of more than two hundred women.

On the one-place front, the revisions for the second edition of Putting Your Ancestors in Their Place are done and that should be available in the new year. So many URLs have changed and I have added some more suggested sources for one-placers. More one-place news; I am excited to be joining a stellar cast for the All About the Place event. My ten minute slot is recorded and I have also done three short readings about places. This promises to be a great collaboration.

Dinosaur Poo, Milking Pigs and Being Me

by thehistoryinterpreter

I apologise for yet another post with poo in the title. This stems from the great discussions I’ve been having with my current cohort of Pharos students on the Discovering more about your Agricultural Labourering Ancestors course. They are a brilliant bunch and our chats range far and wide, including, yesterday, investigations into the use of coprolite (that’s the dinosaur poo) for fertilizer and whether it is possible to milk a pig. The jury is kind of out on that one. Obviously pigs do produce milk but milking them is not generally advised, although there are some ‘interesting’ YouTube videos. Don’t be distracted by the possibilities of milking Minecraft pigs however, that’s another thing entirely.

So someone has decided they’d like to be me. Well, I know I am pretty cool and all that but seriously, although I enjoy being me, it is a bit of an acquired taste. What appears to be (and hopefully is) a very restricted portion of my friends and colleagues have received emails from a spurious email address that does not include my name but is signed with by me with the title of one of my volunteer roles. After a full investigation it has been confirmed that this is not hacking or a virus but identity theft and there’s not a lot I can do. If you get one of these weird emails, check with me on an email address you know is mine and then, if it isn’t me, forward the offending message to report @ phishing.gov.uk. On the upside, as I am now two people, I will race through the to do list at the speed of light. The other me is a little tardy doing the washing-up though.

Excitingly, the first proofs of Marginalised Ancestors have arrived. Less excitingly, that means the dreading black hole that is indexing is looming. Hey, maybe the other me could do that part.

Of this and that with a dash of cat’s poo

by thehistoryinterpreter

So what have you been up to? I am sure you are not asking. It has been a busy few weeks, with the usual round up talks in person and online. I’ve just begun the journey with the latest cohort of students on my Pharos online course that helps to uncover the stories of agricultural labouring ancestors and this week also sees the start of the course on One-Place Studies. I’ve been putting the finishing touches to the next Braund Society magazine that I have been editing for an unbelievable thirty years. Add to this preparing an index for a forthcoming book, working on updates for a new edition for another and starting to produce a third and there’s not been much time for anything else. The job I must not mention is drawing to a close for another season and has brought its usual delights and frustrations. There is already a buzz about Rootstech 2024. I am pleased to have been accepted on to their media team once again. Having made the decision that I would take a year off from speaking at Rootstech in 2023, I have applied to present again in 2024. Stand by for something a little different from me, if it gets accepted. The Call for Papers is still open, if you want to apply. Cornish lessons have finished for the year. The ‘progress’ doesn’t really warrant a post of its own but after thirty hours of lessons, I have a reasonable vocabulary but still zero ability to turn that into sentences.

Then there is the house not moving. There have been several weeks of, let’s be honest, zero progress and being told on all sides that the housing market is the slowest since, well since I last moved house. You want the housing market to slow down? Call on me, I’ll decide to move. Suddenly though, there is a slight chink in the armour and I have a viewing on my property, as do the people who are frantically trying to sell theirs in order to buy mine. Cue a manic cleaning/tidying/gardening spree. Fortunately, this coincides with the arrival of one portion of my descendants, so I can kill two cleaning/tidying birds with one duster. Unfortunately, it also coincides with the visitation of no fewer than three plagues of flying ants. What’s all this ‘they only swarm once a year’ lark? Please could someone inform my local flying ants of this ‘fact’. I still have to dispose of the bodies from round three.

The gardening is another matter. Having been bitten by an unidentified flying insect, I stepped in a deposit ‘kindly’ provided by a neighbouring cat. Said cat and I are already not friends, as it has been catching birds in my garden. I know, I know, it is what cats do but it isn’t pleasant to see it make off with a bird in its mouth. I don’t know what this cat had been eating but boy did it smell. I can still image that smell a day later. Then there was the tree felling. A couple of tree branches were getting dangerously near to the overhead electric cable. Dilemma. Do I risk a serious electrical incident, or do I send an aging fisherman of my acquaintance ten foot up an extremely wobbly ladder because, said fisherman insists, I do not need to get a tree fella in to be a tree feller? We went for the latter option and I just shut my eyes and hopped about in the garden minus my poo-laden shoe. All is well and I would like to put on record for the benefit of the F-O-M-A’s nearest and dearest that I did tell him it wasn’t a good idea. It did take rather a lot of time and energy that I was hoping to spend on other garden tidying but hey ho. Today is the time for duster, mop and bucket and a request for all the positive vibes you can muster, so that I can move on to the next chapter.

A photo because (sorry cat lovers) birds are better than cats.